Emotional Tether
by The-Girl-With-The-Arrows
Summary: Scott McCall can't help notice the reacurring bruises on Isaac Lahey's face, he wants to help but Isaac is reluctant. When he mentions this to new-alpha Derek Hale, the alpha gets an idea. Without telling Scott, he offers Isaac the bite and turns him into a werewolf. Now, without an emotional tether, something for Isaac to hold on to his humanity with, he might be a loose canon.


**This is my first Teen Wolf/Scisaac fic. **

**Summary: Scott McCall can't help notice the reacurring bruises on Isaac Lahey's face, he wants to help but Isaac is reluctant. When he mentions this to new-alpha Derek Hale, the alpha gets an idea. Without telling Scott, he offers Isaac the bite and turns him into a werewolf. Now, without an emotional tether, something for Isaac to hold on to his humanity with, he might be a loose canon. Scott is furious with Derek, but cares more about Isaac than his rage. It's an emotional struggle for both Isaac and Scott as the full moon approaches and new enemies show their faces. **

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**Chapter One: **

**Bruised and Scarred**

The bruise was unmistakable, an ugly, blue and purple splotch on the side of the boy's face that made him look more helpless than before. Most people would smile at the mark, thinking it made them seem tougher. But to Isaac, it was just a reminder of how powerless he really was. His fingers poked and jabbed at it. Jets of pain shot through Isaac's cheek as he did, but the pain was mild.

A sigh parted his lips as he lowered his hand, his eyes studying the blemish. He would have to think of a decent story if anyone were to ask. Simply saying: "my father hits me sometimes," does not sit well with others. Besides, as much as Isaac feared and even disliked his father, seeing the man hauled of to jail was not on his wish list.

It had been his fault anyway. Isaac new better than to provoke his father when he had a drink in his hand, asking for a bit of cash was always replied with a violent act. Yet, he had been stupid enough to utter the words. The ugly splotch on his face was his punishment.

If he was different, less of a coward, maybe Isaac would stand up to the man. It was getting tiring being afraid all the time; wondering when the next blow was going to strike, flinching at every movement. Sadly, Isaac was just another sixteen year old boy who didn't know what to do.

After many minutes of staring at the mark, Isaac grabbed his book bag and headed out the door. With the sun radiating a warm glow, the birds quietly chirping away, Isaac didn't mind the walk to school. It allowed him time to himself and eased his mind since his father was not around. Now, he just had to think of a story. Saying he ran into a door, or fell down the stairs was becoming over-used. People would start suspecting.

The school was already buzzing with his peers as he stepped into the building. Most people ignored him, not because they didn't know who he was but because they didn't _see_ him. Unless it was his father, or a moment he screwed up, Isaac has an uncontrollable power of being invisible. Sometimes he found it an enjoyable blessing; not being bothered. That was just a one perk, over all; his invisibility was a curse,

Approaching his locker, Isaac pushed pasted the couple making out against the next one, neither of them moving as he gently forced them to the side to open his locker wider. "Damn," He muttered.

It was always the same two people, always lip locked and oblivious to everything else. Envious was how Isaac felt toward the couple. He wanted to feel so strongly about someone that he never wanted to be a part from them. But, at the moment, he only associated himself with the dead as he roamed the cemetery by his house.

The locker shut with a bag. Isaac turned, deciding to head to his first period early since he had nothing better to do. As he turned the corner, he was slammed into something – someone. Breathe escaped his lungs as he almost fell on his ass.

"Shit," A voice from below muttered. Isaac's eyes feel on the smaller boy who was now on the ground, slowly picking himself up. Scott McCall, Isaac knew him from lacrosse practice. Gritting his teeth together, Isaac prepared himself for whatever fowl names Scott might throw at him. Although Isaac had never seen Scott lash out at anyone – not like some of the other players – it was just a natural reaction for him. Hell, maybe he would throw a punch – it would not surprise Isaac. "I'm sorry, didn't see you there."

Shock overwhelmed the taller boy; his jaw nearly hit the floor. Never before had someone ever apologized, or taken blame was Isaac was involved. They always yelled, cursed, or attempted to hit Isaac for being such an incompetent idiot. "Jesus Christ. Isaac, what happened?" Scott's dark eyes squinted for a second as he stared at the bruise. The one Isaac had forgot had made home on his face.

"You know me," He said, adding a smile that didn't fit well on his face. "I'm clumsy,"

"Isaac," There was a strange turning in Isaac's stomach as Scott said his name again, this time with more concern than anything else. The two of them had exchanged small conversations before. Nothing that would even qualify them as acquaintances, so, the concern in Scott's voice, the look in his eyes was baffling.

No words were uttered, and before another comment could be made, a loud voice boomed from behind Scott.

"Where the hell have you been?" Stiles, another playing on the lacrosse team and known as Scott's best friend, approached them, his face covered in annoyance. Scott didn't wince as Stiles patted him on the back; his eyes lingered on Isaac, not even moving when Isaac turned away.

"I'm going to go." Isaac muttered. Before Scott could stop him, Isaac was rushing down the hall, taking the longer way to his first class.

Scott McCall was unable to focus at the task at hand. He had a lot more on his mind; he could care less about the History test resting on his desk untouched. Minus all the werewolf bullshit he was forced into, Scott's mind was also on the very person he had bumped into today. Isaac Lahey.

No one else seemed to notice the boys recurring bruises and scars; Scott noticed. Running into a door, or falling down the stairs might be plausible once or twice, but it seemed to becoming a weekly thing. Every other day it seemed Isaac was supporting a new blemish on his face. Who knew how many he hide beneath his clothing. Scott was always curious, scared there might be worse injuries, but Isaac always changed in the bathroom during lacrosse. Scott was never able to see for himself.

Today, there was a freshly formed bruise on his cheek, and when asked about it, Isaac didn't offer much of an excuse. Not many people spoke of the Lahey's, but there were rumors around about Mr. Lahey that made Scott's stomach knot.

What made it worse is, Isaac didn't seem to have anyone. Since he took a notice to Isaac, (something he wished he'd noticed a while ago), Scott could not help but take note of how people passed the boy by without even a glance. There was nothing about Isaac that led Scott to believe he was anything but a good person.

"Five minutes remaining." Scott's mind snapped back to reality where there was a blank history test in front of him. Cursing under his breath, Scott quickly scribbled in bubbles, answered in some strange pattern that didn't matter. Everyone else was lounging in their chairs, ear buds in, book open, phone out, or something along those lines. Scott was the last to finish, and the teacher was anything but pleased.

"Damn it!" Stiles joined Scott's side as they exited the classroom, eyes staring out the window as the rain poured down. "This means couch is going to bust our asses tomorrow to make this up." A groan vibrated form Stile's throat, more like a Chewbacca impression than a real human noise.

Scott was relived about practice being canceled; his mind was not in the right pace for lacrosse. "Let's just go to my house. My mom just went shopping and I'm starved."

Stiles shrugged, removing his jeep keys from his pocket. "You've got some curly fries?"

"My mom bought a bag just for you."

"Scott, have I ever told you I love your mom?" The two of them exchanged a laugh, finally reaching the doors that lead to the outside.

There looked to be a storm brewing, threatening to bring more than just rain. "Let's go." Stiles lead the way to his blue jeep, smiling like he always did whenever he saw the thing. By the time both of them closed the door, they were half soaked, and shivering. It would be healthy for them to have a day without the chaos of werewolves and alpha's. Both of then needed a day where they could stuff their faces with chips and curly fries, play whatever video game that wasn't scratched and act like _normal_ teenagers. Sometimes Scott –

"Stop!" Stiles slammed on the breaks, lunging them forward.

"What the hell?"

Scott didn't respond, he rolled the window down (with some protest from Stiles,) and stuck his head out. "Isaac!" The figure hunched over, soaking wet in the rain turned, his blue eyes barley seeing Scott through the rain. "Need a ride?"

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**I am dreadful at first chapters, sorry if this was kind of blah, I have bigger and better plans for this story once it gets more in depth. I hoped you liked it! Read/Review! **


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